


May I?

by sassmasterkillian



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:45:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassmasterkillian/pseuds/sassmasterkillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a little drabble that I came up with awhile ago! I just wanted to write some cute fluff. Enjoy xx</p>
            </blockquote>





	May I?

“I swear you’ve been spending too much time with Jehan,” is the first thing Eponine says on her long awaited meet-up (or date, though she never liked to call dates ‘dates’ - even if it was an evening spent sitting in the park) with Combeferre.  
  
“Well, he has been helping me with my poetry analysis paper.” Combeferre grins, running a hand through Eponine’s wavy chocolate locks.  
“And teaching you how to braid flowers into people’s hair, too?” The philosophy student smirks, now picking up a flower beside him.  
“Possibly,” he pauses and lets his gaze trail up towards the star covered sky, “He tells me I need practice, and it’s a practical way of using flowers or dandelions.” Twirling the random, purple-tinted flower between his fingers, he pushes it behind her ear carefully, making sure not to cause any discomfort. He smiles widely as he looks back at her.  
“Do I look pretty now?” Her words have the barest hint of laughter.  
“You look pretty all the time.” Combeferre gushes, wishing he could say more. Eponine’s eyes light up as her lips part, her teeth now flashing a bright smile.  
“Thank you.”  
“It’s my pleasure,” he replies, pursing his lips, “It’s the truth.”  
Eponine exhales while shaking her head, “Oh, come on, you can’t be that nice.” Combeferre seems fazed, blinking rapidly before speaking.  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“It’s just,” Eponine inhales in an attempt to muster some sentence, “no one’s ever been this sweet or considerate to me. Ever.” The sparkle has suddenly dulled in her eyes. Quickly trying to regain her composure, she stifles a laugh. “Sometimes I think this is all a dream. How silly is that?”  
“How could this be a dream?” Combeferre crosses his legs and leans forward, watching her intently.  
“I mean, you buy me coffee and read books to me and now you put flowers in my hair and call me pretty.”  
“It’s what you deserve!” Combeferre insists while adjusting his glasses. He’s always been the persistent type. Eponine chuckles again as the corners of her mouth turn down ever so slightly.  
I can’t bring myself to believe that.”  
  
Combeferre opens his mouth to let a comforting comment reassure her, but closes it just as quickly. There’s a pause between the pair - not the comfortable silence that brings people closer. The anxiety sweeps over Combeferre and he begins to interlace his fingers as a way to calm himself. Eponine seems to be oblivious as she glances down at her shoes, as if the whole conversation had never happened. Without speaking, Combeferre’s fingers slowly unlace themselves and reach over to Eponine’s hand, clutching it lightly. Startled by his soft touch, her hand twitches a tad. As Eponine’s eyes meet his, she eases her hand into his slowly.  
  
“I’m not going anywhere,” he grins as he exhales quietly, “I may not be able to make my words sound much prettier than that, but I mean it.”  
Completely taken aback by his kind words, Eponine simply regards him for a moment.  
“I know you mean that.”  
“So then why doubt it?” Combeferre asks, squeezing her hand.  
“It’s -” her eyes dart for the ground, too afraid to look up, “ - a long story. One best saved for another night.”  
Combeferre nods, not daring to ask anymore of her. Realizing that his hand is still gripping hers tightly, he abruptly pulls it away, then slinks it back, this time a few inches away from it.  
“May I?-“  
A giggle escapes her parted lips. “Of course.” She motions for him to intertwine his fingers with hers.

And he does.


End file.
